Desolated
by TwistedMister
Summary: After spending years in Azkaban, Kase is imprisoned in a new kind of hell. At it's head stands a sadistic torturer loathed by all. Voldemort reigns supreme in a dark world of violence, power, and envy.


**Desolated**

_Chapter: 1_

It was black that day, a great storm swelled in the North Sea. Kase could see the dark clouds rising in the distance at the break of dawn out of the small barred window of his cell. They advanced towards Azkaban fortress to crash upon the walls with force. Winds howled and gusted sounding a demonic chorus, deafening thunderclaps boomed and shook the prison to its foundations. It was like a great leviathan had woken from the deep to unleash it's cold fury on all of the inhabitants of the broken haunt.

The storm echoed off Azkaban's central tower like a stone drum. High pitched squeals sounded even through the tempest and a flood of rats began to spill in through the window above, their gaunt bodies illuminated for a moment by a flash of lightning. They landed on the flag stone floor of Kase's cell to vanish into the cracks of crumbling mortar in the walls. He knew better than to try and catch one, they were fast and agile, when caught they were apt to use their teeth. If you slept on the floor by night they were like to gnaw on your fingers and toes. The last one had made him sick, it was hard to stomach a vermin's sweet meat for long.

Every time lighting crashed the wall opposite him became visible. Close to the floor were a myriad of scratches marked tediously into the stone, the proof of every agonizing day that came and went in this miserable hell. Above it where the stone was more giving was a large mural dedicated to many things.

Among them was the portraits of his mother and father and twin brother, of the misty hill where he once lived, and of Hogwarts the place that had made and ruined him in turn. Every tower and keep was carved out with careful thought and consideration. This was a temple in truth not of the gods but of the mind, in hopes that he would not forget all that had come before in his ten by ten foot world.

Oats was late that morning his jailer was never late. Always there with a cup of lumpy porridge and a goblet of water without fail. True he wasn't much of a talker, the only time Kase had heard him say anything was when he had used the killing curse to shut up that old bat howling three cells down. The thought of the curse once conjured horror in his mind, now the idea of a quick painless death comforted him in this place of denigrating madness.

But the man wasn't wholly cruel, Kase had a hunch the man had a soft spot for him on account of his half blood. On rare occasions the man brought him extra rations, a cup of milk, a slice of beef, one Christmas he brought him a cup of hot tea and on another a glass of firewhisky. Kase didn't even know the mans name but he favored him all the same.

Kase rubbed his hands together remembering the warmth those subtle liquids had instilled in him. Gods he wished he had some last winter, all he got was a thin scratchy bed sheet but he was grateful enough._ I still have the blanket but the worst of winter is over and spring is coming._ All the worse, they would snatch it from his grasp sooner or later as they had all the years previous.

The Dark Lord had removed the dementors from the fortress before he begun his sentence, all for the better. No doubt he was using them to harvest the energy from all of the defenseless muggles he surmised. Azkaban had turnkeys, jailers for time being and Kase hoped that it would remain that way. The thought of those faceless monsters tending to him daily instead of Oats, sucking all of the happy thoughts he had left terrified him more than anything. Maybe then he would truly go mad..

But what did he know? He had been locked up for over three years now with no contact or information of the outside world. Who could say how far the Dark Lord had succeeded in his plans, he didn't like to dwell on it after Potter's capture and subsequent death Kase knew that their last hope had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

Then his mind switched to his family and all of the acquaintances he once knew and grew up with, his gut clenched as it had a thousand times before at the thought of the tribulations and destruction that they faced both known and imagined. _Gods help them._

"God's help them." Kase echoed beyond hearing. What could he do for them? He was locked up here weak and half mad. No better a wizard than he was in school, all of the countless hours spent trying to do wandless magic a fools dream.

They wouldn't want him, the outcast, the weird, the stranger among his own peers. _What would I say to them? I was __never__ good with words, always tripping over my own tongue,__ I couldn't hold a conversation if sworn by an unbreakable vow. I'm worse off now, more experienced __and __wiser aye, but recluse as ever. __I can't __even __remember the last time I __spoke. __Has it been a__ year __or even __two?_

Shame burned deep in his core at the thought of it. At first he tried Oats, but Oats never deigned to reply. Then he tried the other prisoners but most on his block were insane, the only one that ever spoke was the old woman or at least who sounded old. She would always scream. "Bags fast!" Their conversations were one sided to say the least, then one day Oats entered his cell and cracked him across the jaw with a truncheon knocking out two teeth, spelling an end to their short communication.

With nothing better to do he would talk to himself, one day while bored he dug at the wall under his cot and found a foot long iron spike embedded in the stone. After many days of prying and scraping he retrieved it. Finally he had a tool but it would be no help in escape, this isn't some muggle prison. Azkaban is protected by wards and powerful enchantments a long nail wasn't going to see him to freedom.

Kase used it to begin the count of his days and the murals he so cherished, he lost himself in creation. Carving a certain tower or greenhouse would invoke memories long forgotten, sometimes he would act out a conversation he heard in the various locals. Some of his favorite were the ones involving Malfoy and Potter, the Weasley twins or anything pertaining to that old toad Umbridge.

A great catharsis they were, sometimes Kase would almost forget where he was. But a terrible realization had come one day to him, that if he continued down this path he may end up like so many others in Azkaban, insane. So he had to stop much to his grief.

The great tower shook again the dim light from the torch flickered waking him from his thoughts. The door down the hallway beyond seeing creaked as it opened. _Finally he is here with breakfast. _But it wasn't just Oats, he wasn't dreaming there was another set of footsteps or was it three? He couldn't tell.

"How many does the ministry require?"

"A dozen at least maybe more. What type of inmates are housed in this ward?"

Kase lay still as a statue trying to slow the beating of his heart to make out every word. "Mudbloods mostly but some are guilty through blood association."

"I will take the filth, are there any that retain their faculties? Are there some that have strength left to them?" The questioner had a measured and deliberate way of speech while the other man was gruff and wheezy.

"Few enough Mr…."

"Runcorn, Albert Runcorn.. I've been appointed to the position of bailiff by the head of the Wizengamot Dolores Umbridge. I was sent here to transfer certain prisoners to an estate of one in the inner circle." The other let out a hackling cough and audibly spit.

"Thought you said you was from the courts, what does some higher up want with this lot? The only thing these wretches are good for is experimental hexes."

"It's none of my business why they are needed all I know is that the Dark Lord requested them himself." Kase heard the other man gasp and it turned into another coughing fit.

The shadows grew longer as the men approached, Kase closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep as he tried to stop his legs from involuntary shaking and hands fidgeting. Their footfalls drew near and Kase opened his eyelids just a smidgen. When they came into view, one looked as if he was hunched over and held a lit wand. The other stood tall and was cloaked in darkness.

"Who is this?" The one he recognized as Runcorn asked. "Inmate number five-six-five-three-four he's a bit strange but not mad I grant you. Quite lucid but weak, a half blood I might add." The hunched back man said. "Only half as good than most that share this block, it's a pity those with wizarding blood should be interned here with such scum."

"A pity aye, but the law is the law and the Dark Lords justice rules supreme. Blood made this one and chained this one." Runcorn placed a meaty hand on a rusty bar of the cell. "So he is a stand in?"

"Yes he's paying for the crimes of a brother, you know the one."

"It cannot be, the one that helped him? The Undesirable?" The other nodded slowly. Runcorn seemed to take this in for a moment and said. "He's been questioned I'm sure before his incarceration." Yes Kase had been questioned the marks on his back was proof enough. "Of course if his answers weren't sweet as honey to the inquisitors then the man wouldn't be here in one piece at least."

"Wake him he's coming with me." A key was turned and the bars slid to the side with a shrieking cry of metal on metal. Kase open his eyes fully this time and saw the two men for what they were. The hunchback man wasn't Oats that was for certain, he wore a moth eaten gray robe reeking of stale tobacco and mold.. A leather cowl concealed the upper part of his face, an old man his cheeks were pox marked and lined with age, he held a lit wand in his gloved hand.

Runcorn was different however. Tall and broad as an oak, his hair was dark and his brow heavy and pronounced. He had a hard face as if carved from stone, his eyes were like flint arrows penetrating to the core, he wore fine black satin robes with a green deaths head embroidered the breast. _A Death Eater._ Kase knew.

"You asked for a wake up call." The jailer smiled down at Kase with the few teeth left to him. "It seems we came a few years too late, no matter we have another room for you someplace else free o' charge." He laughed to himself and pulled out a handkerchief dirtier than his robes to cough into. "He smells worse than a mountain troll." Runcorn stepped into the wand light his nose crinkled in disgust.

_Too true._ Kase couldn't remember the last time he had a hot shower, the only chance he had to wash was when the cold sea spray came through his window and that was not enough. His hair reached down almost to his ass, tangled, bushy, and knotted as it was. His beard was long too it was a dull red and blonde, ingrown hairs stung his cheeks.

"Step back sir I can take care of it." Runcorn retreated and the jailer lifted his wand. "Aguamenti." A blast of water erupted from his wand and hit Kase square in the face. The water was cold but he didn't care, he could feel the layers of grime being lifted off. A few seconds later Kase was left dripping and Runcorn cleared his throat. "Prisoner five-six-five-three-four I have been sent by the head of the Wizengamot to transfer you and some other criminals to another facility. You will comply with this directive as a ward of the state." Runcorn towered over his scrawny form. "See to it you cause no trouble on my behalf and you shall come to no harm under my hand. Do you understand?"

Kase couldn't conjure his voice after not using for so long so he simply nodded, Runcorn motioned for him to exit the cell. He walked forward easily at first but when he got to the threshold he stopped. _Is this a dream or can it be actually real? Will I wake when my foot touches the divide?_ A burst of courage seized him and he jumped landing lightly on both feet in the hallway. His head swelled with a rush ecstasy, it didn't matter whether he died this place was to be behind him hopefully for good.

He followed along meekly as the pair went around to the other cells._ Gods I lived no more than one hundred feet from most of these wretches but I might as well have been a world away…_ This became to apparent as they passed other people one by one. A balding man sat against the far wall of his cell three doors down, his skin sagged about his body as if he was fat once, his eyes hollow to the world. Another woman was naked on her bed shit smeared all over herself.

When they reached the sixth cell the jailer turned the key in the lock. Right as the bolt fell its occupant sprung out running into Runcorn's massive chest. "Stupefy" The jailer didn't miss a beat, he aimed a stunning spell right at the figures back. But this wasn't necessary Runcorn drove his fist hard into the inmates face, sending him to the floor. "That ingrate touched me." Runcorn said wiping the grime off the front of his robes.

"Apologies sir, some of these mudbloods are more dangerous than they look." With a revving spell the unconscious man was awake again, he choked sending a glob of blood and broken teeth across the floor. "Please this is all a big mistake! I'm a famous Quidditch player I was on the Irish national team! I'm Aidan Lynch!"

"I don't give a skrewt who ya are. All I know is you're a mudblood and you're coming with us." Ropes flew out of the jailers wand and bound the man now sobbing on the floor. Runcorn practically drug him by his hair down the hall.

They came to the end of the hall then, the jailer opened the last door on the left and stepped inside. "Knock me with a bludger, is it really Stan Shunpike?" _The conductor of the Knight Bus, it cannot be._ Though it was out of the cell he emerged. Long brown hair flecked with gray nearly to his knees and a beard to match. He not the same youth that had managed the purple bus of old, hardly recognizable.

"This isn't Stan's first stent in Azkaban." The jailer gave Stan a toothy that he did not return. "I remember" Runcorn said. "Scrimgeour locked him up for saying he had knowledge of Dark Lords inner circle. But Stan was trying to impress his friends, the funny part was the ministry knew that he was lying but kept him here anyways. Scrimgeour was prickly when his pride was concerned and wanted the public to think he was getting something done."

"I think they are enough for now. I'll tell Delores there wasn't much in the way of inmates on this block at least. The storm is raging and I don't want the floo network to be damaged leaving me stranded here for Merlin knows how long. Show me to the spire."

The old jailer took them back down the corridor. Kase took one last look in his cell, the mural on the wall still visible. "Goodbye." He whispered. His voice sounded strange to him after so long. "goodbye." He echoed quieter under his breath._ Hopefully for good._ Whatever awaited him outside these walls he told himself was not as bad as the horrors of Azkaban._ I __will never return here. If that means forfeiting my own life so be it__, __what is death compared to this place…_

When they reached the door that led out of the block the jailer conjured blindfolds over the prisoners eyes to make them blind to the world. The inmates were ordered to get into single file and grab each others shoulders for guidance. They moved through what seemed like a long hallway and up a flight of steep steps, he could hear the storm growing louder as they went. "Open the gate." He heard the jailer say over the howling of the wind.

The gate opened on rusty hinges and a spray of cold rain lashed against them. "Stay together! The bridge is narrow but it will see us across! Don't get any ideas or you'll regret it!" The noise had grown so loud that Runcorn shout to be heard.

Kase held tight onto the man in front as they walked blindly out onto the bridge, he shivered as an icy lance went down his spine. The gales were fierce pushing the party this way and that and he stepped in something strangely warm that was puddled on the ground below.

Then a great gust rose up making the rain blow horizontal and the blindfold was ripped from his head. Kase braced himself trying to see through the blinding rain, he could just make out the pale white calves of the man he held in front. But in an instant they were gone..

The feel of the mans wet bony shoulder left him too and the last thing Kase saw was his heels as he leapt off the side of the bridge. "Avada Kedavera!" Runcorn yelled through the tempest at the pale figure falling to the cold sea below.

The hurled curse and his form disappeared from sight, a few seconds later a crack like a thunderbolt boomed and the sky flashed silver and purple. Out of the mist ahead a great hand grabbed him roughly about the neck and dragged him the remainder of the bridge.

"It looks like our seeker has dove for his last catch." A voice like a rasp said as the party entered a dank and musty room beyond the gate. The shock of what had happened had not left Kase yet when a new convulsion had set his heart to beating.

_Oats!_ It was his jailer sitting close by at a table with a goblet of sour wine in his hand. "The bastard jumped, Dolores will have my head!" Runcorn bellowed letting go of Kase to smash his meaty fist on the table. "He's probably in a thousand pieces by now after hitting those wards."

"I told you Urswyck." Oats gave the hunchback jailer a shit eating grin. "You can't cage a man that was born to fly."


End file.
